


Art Is a Dangerous Profession

by SatanButShorter



Series: TGS hijinks [2]
Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Crack, How Do I Tag, Hyde is not a very good artist, Jekyll isn't really in this at all, OOC, Rachel please calm down, i guess, its mostly Hyde, its pretty short, little angsty, send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanButShorter/pseuds/SatanButShorter
Summary: Hyde decides to do art with Rachel.She is very concerned.
Relationships: Edward Hyde & Rachel Pidgley
Series: TGS hijinks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194326
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Art Is a Dangerous Profession

Hyde cursed under his breath as he drunkenly tried to carry the canvas to the society in the early evening. The canvas was enormous, almost making Hyde stretch his arms full length to keep hold of it. He didn't want to risk ripping the fine material apart. He had already struggled his way to a small art supply store, where he had checked his purse in dismay, realizing that he was almost out of money for the month and had to head for the cheapest color and brush options available. 

Ever since Hyde nearly emptied the local Soho bar, Jekyll had decided to give Hyde an allowance for each month, rather than having him waste the society's finances on expensive booze. 

He had settled for a small selection of different shades of red and green, sealed in tins and an already rough and disheveled looking package of brushes. There was no way he could spend more money on this activity.

Hyde had a vague idea of what he wanted to do with the canvas and hoped that the supply he bought would be good enough. Normally he preferred roof-hopping home or slinking through the sewers, but his unwieldy load made this impossible tonight. So he walked the distance from the art store up to the society, bag filled with the color tins dangling from one arm, clanging against each other in a really annoying way.

It was Friday. His hang-out night with Rachel. Hyde smiled gladly. This was the reason for the canvas as Hyde always had some sort of activity planned, whereas Rachel provided the snacks.

Glancing at his watch Hyde realized that he still had two hours before he was supposed to meet with the maid, because he got kicked out of the bar early tonight. But there was nothing that could be done about this now, except using the time productively. So he would use the extra hours to start working on the canvas. He wasn't even sure if the canvas would fit into his room over in Soho. Even more reason to start working on it here right away. He held the canvas up over his head as he pushed open the door to the building.

"Hello Hyde, What are you doing with the canvas?" Ito greeted him as he made a beeline to the kitchen.

"Hi Ito," Hyde smiled, shuffling the canvas around awkwardly. "Just doing a little art project, I'm just heading to the kitchen."

"Oh right, it's Friday, Rachel isn't there yet. She left a little while ago to grab something at the store. You could probably wait for her in the lobby?"

"Nah it's fine. I'll just wait in the kitchen and start working on the canvas. I won't touch anything else. Promise."

"Sure you won't." She snorted and walked away.

Hyde struggled getting the canvas through the doorway of kitchen. The plastic bag full of colors got stuck on the hinge, ripping the bag apart and sending the tins flying in every direction. Hyde cursed and shuffled his arm out of the remains of the plastic bag and finally fully entered the kitchen hallway, missing a few boxes that had been stored by the entrance in the process and sending them down in a tumble.

The remains of the bag got stuck in the hinge of the door, jamming it. He groaned and peeked over the rim of the canvas as he proceeded further through the hallway. He left a trail of destruction behind as he steered into the kitchen where he promptly collided again, sending two chairs and a bunch of papers to the floor. 

"Goddamnit." Hyde hissed as he finally leaned the canvas against a free spot at the wall. He debated to clean the caused mess immediately, but decided to do it later, before Rachel would arrive and tear him a new one. He just wanted to get the art-task started as soon as possible.

He stood for a minute, trying to ignore Jekyll telling him to pick up after himself, even though it got harder with every moment, debating how to arrange the canvas best to work on it and decided to go for one of the higher chairs as a makeshift easel. He put the canvas on the chair and fixated it with some tape he had stolen from one of the lodgers.

Humming contently, Hyde reluctantly retraced his path to the kitchen door, collecting the color tins and stacking them together in one of the empty boxes he grabbed off the floor.

Still humming, he checked the colours, getting lost in his thoughts, remembering the time that he had tried to create an aphrodisiac in Ito's lab. It hadn't ended well and Ito had to repaint the ceiling of her lab in the aftermath.

Absently, Hyde fumbled with the lid of the tin that contained a nice, crimson red. Jekyll's prattling still reeling in his head and he turned, continuously working to free the lid, to the kitchen door to remove the plastic bag.

And from there, everything went downhill.

Hyde reached the door at the same moment he got the lid removed. Everything would have been fine, if it wasn't for the unreasonable amount of strength he had used to open the tin. Annoyed due to the constantly rambling doctor in his head, the level of frustration within him had risen to a point where he used way too much force to open it.

The lid flew open, sending the tin flying straight in the air as well. Hyde, suddenly back from his thoughts of alchemy, tried to get hold of the tin, but it swirled through the air, covering the doorway, Hyde's front, hands and part of his face in red, before landing in one of the numerous boxes scattered in the hallway, disappearing from view. The plastic bag caught a draft and was released from the door, leaving Hyde in grim silence with the mess he had caused.

He didn't see Jekyll but he could feel him wincing.

"Shit, shit, shit," Hyde cursed, taking in all the chaos he had forced upon Rachel's hallway. 

Nervously he skittered back into the lab, red paint dripping from his hands and hair, leaving a messy trail of crimson. Hyde looked around helplessly. He had to clean the mess before Rachel came back.

He gazed around frantically for rags or wipes, leaving another puddle of red in the process. He threw a miserable look at his hands, which resulted in a poor attempt to dry and clean them by patting along his trousers. No need to bother with water, he needed some special cleaning agent for the paint. Why again had he chosen waterproof colors? 

Suddenly overcome by the urge to hide the whole art-disaster, Hyde shuffled to the canvas, trying to free it from the chair, a faint sense of panic bubbling in his chest. But the tape was still firmly attached, not nearly loose enough. Together with the canvas he pulled the whole chair in his direction, struggling with his balance and lost it completely as he stumbled into the puddle of red paint, sending him sliding, not even a slight chance for his enhanced sense of balance to stop him from falling.

The canvas dropped and slid under one of the counters. Hyde yelped. His eyes got wide, and then he collided with the ground hard. Nothing but blackness sprinkled with red dots was left. Damn art! Damnit!

Then he was out cold.

...

Rachel had been at the market for most of the evening so she was anxious to get back to the society. It was still rather early in the evening so she doubted that Hyde was there yet, but she still wanted to get back soon to hopefully bake some treats for whatever Hyde had planned for tonight.

When she entered the society she headed to Jekyll's lab to drop off some chemicals but couldn't find the doctor anywhere, she shrugged it off, assuming that he had simply gone home early. She placed the chemicals on the desk and headed to the kitchen.

The doors to the kitchen slid open and revealed a patch of thick redness on the floor of the hallway. Rachel froze in her tracks, staring down at the "Blood..?" She stepped into the hallway, carefully avoiding the puddle.

Rachel's gaze was still focused on the red patch on the ground. Her pulse was racing and leaning against the wall for support, still somewhat fighting back the panic rising in her chest.

She finally tore her eyes away from the puddle and was greeted by a scene from a nightmare. Boxes lay scattered across the hallway and there were more blotches of red. Like a fight had just happened, the red pathces were everywhere. Red puddles on the floor, red smears on the wall. Rachel felt her stomach rise as a wave of nausea hit her. What had happened here?

She armed herself with a frying pan from one of the boxes and inched further towards the kitchen, prepared to fend off any attacker.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw though.

In the blink of an eye she was inside the kitchen and felt her heart missing several beats at the sight before her. The kitchen was an even greater mess. Fallen chairs, paper and cooking utensils everywhere. Hyde was lying on the ground, eyes closed and there was this unnerving red all over and around him.

"Edward!"

...

There was a high pitched ringing in his ears. Hyde groaned, trying to cover his ears, but every movement hurt. Nothing happened, except him shifting a little bit in his uncomfortable position on the kitchen floor. He couldn't move probably.

"Wha'?"

Darkness drifted through his head again and when he came back to senses a few seconds later, the pain in his head almost made him wish to be unconscious again. Slowly his memory fell back in place. The jammed door, the chaos, the paint, the fall. The damned and cursed art project idea.

He lay still for a moment, tracing his body mentally for any other hurting parts except his head, but he seemed fine otherwise. At least physically. 

He totally messed up this one. Remembering the chaos he caused he cringed. Rachel wouldn't be pleased at all. And it wasn't like it was the first instance of Hyde messing up Rachel's kitchen. He wouldn't be surprised if Rachel would ground him from entering the kitchen entirely.

Just his luck.

"Fuck," Hyde breathed and attempted another try on moving and picking himself up from the floor. On the outer meters of his mental periphery he was aware of noises and a voice coming from outside the kitchen, but he was too preoccupied by getting up without being sick. 

Concussion. Great. Hyde just wished to disappear. Maybe he should take the potion and let Jekyll deal with this, as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe this was an option.

Yeah, that sounded good.

The noises grew louder, Hyde could hear footsteps approaching and then there was a shout.

"Edward!"

Hyde winced at the volume. He recognized the voice at once. Rachel. Shit. He was busted. 

He was trying to get a quick excuse for the caused mess across his lips as Rachel kneeled next to him, but was hushed by the maid in an instant. Hyde forced his eyes open. The bright light of the kitchen wasn't helping the pain in his head and he furrowed his brow. Rachel was hovering over him, a deeply concerned look upon her face.

"Shh, Edward, don't move," she said, but Hyde was already trying to get up again, fighting the humiliation that was boiling inside his chest. Firm hands hold him down.

"R'chl" he slurred, blinking and trying to force the two Rachels, which were now in his view, to merge again into one. Hyde's gaze travelled along his own shoulders, where Rachel's hands rested gently, over his red stained cape down to the red puddle that Rachel was kneeling in.

Hyde's eyes went wide.

"Hyde, what is it? What happened?!" Rachel was kneeling in the red paint. Frantic and worried. In her, Hyde could only imagine how expensive, new apron, he already didn't pay her as much as he should, at her insistence. She was kneeling in the cheap paint, ruining her clothes just because Hyde had messed up— again. This got Hyde going. With force, he pushed Rachel's hands away, catching his best friend by surprise, and picked himself up halfway and scuttled back from the maid.

"Rachel! Your apron! You'll ruin your apron!"

There was a short silence. Rachel was watching the blond with an unreadable expression, which was quickly overtaken by even more concern.

"How hard did you hit your head? Seriously! I couldn't care less about the apron right now! You are hurt," she started. Hyde shifted uncomfortably.

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry…"

"I don't think it's the best time to discuss the definition of 'fine', Hyde," Rachel countered and approached the blond again, wading with her knees through the redness, not giving a single damn about her clothing. 

"No, really, Rachel, I'm fine. Just hit my head a little, but it's already healing."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but all the blood and 'hitting my head a little' doesn't roll with me," Rachel snapped sarcastically, hands all over Hyde again, looking for the potential wound that was the cause of all the presumed blood, ready to rush him to the lodgers, they were technically doctors after all.

"Blood?" Hyde deadpanned. Then realization hit him. The red paint. 

"Oh, no! No, no, no! Rachel, it's paint!" Rachel stopped in her movement, blinking confused.

"Paint?" Hyde nodded reassuring.

"Yeah, I wanted to paint with you tonight so I bought the paint and I arrived back early because of this huge canvas-" he fumbled the canvas into Rachel's view from under the counter, "but it's so big I somehow caused a little mess transporting it and as I was trying to fix the door I jammed, because the stupid bag tore off between the hinges, I ripped the lid off the tin too hard and then there was paint everywhere and I wanted to clean it-" he paused to take a deep breath before continuing, "I somehow messed this up too and fell accidentally and hit my head, but I'm fine, really." Hyde finished his rambling in a rush.

Rachel was listening with one ear, examining the red substance at the same time. Now that her panic was fading she recognized the thicker texture and the missing metallic signature smell of blood. There was only the smell of…well, paint.

"Edward Hyde, you little shit." Rachel muttered but relaxed visibly. 

She sunk back on her heels giggling, hand covering her face which left her with a red smear across her forehead. 

"Oh dear lord. You're going to be the death of me."

**Author's Note:**

> this is really old, its pretty ooc too
> 
> (pls comment a better title i dont like the current one)


End file.
